


Look Sharp

by orphan_account



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Finger Sucking, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nosebleed, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The number for his jacket at coat check flutters out and down onto the floor. Briefly, Aoba wonders if he memorized the number for later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look Sharp

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the tags. The scene in question isn't graphic but it is evident as to what is going on so tread with caution should you need.

The bones in Aoba’s hands rattle like dice against the porcelain underneath his curled palms. Drool spatters wet and cold onto the backs of his knuckles as he sputters in what might be an mixture of every language he knows yet somehow Noiz is able to translate, an expert at everything Aoba desires, and winds one arm tighter around Aoba’s chest as he holds him up nearly on the toes of his shoes to strike at a deeper angle.

Nice shoes, polished shoes; they glint in the harsh light of the fluorescent lights and skid against the marble floors. Is the floor wet? From how much he’s sweating and drooling Aoba wouldn’t be surprised.

He doesn’t have a flicker of a clue as to how long he’s been fucked by Noiz, it all runs together in a blur of colors and sensation, burning from the tips of his ears to the pit of his stomach as Noiz fucks away his grasp of time and grasp on the tank cover.

The number for his jacket at coat check flutters out and down onto the floor. Briefly, Aoba wonders if he memorized the number for later before Noiz jerks his hips back further, impaling Aoba onto his cock and grinding, groaning low in his throat and it echoes in the stall and across the bathroom.

It’s not as if they had planned this rendezvous out. If anything it was the opposite—Noiz, with Aoba as his guest, were expected at the business function occurring outside the bathroom and should have been standing stiff and straight, talking numbers and polite competition, not fucking each other blind and sputtering half-formed pleas and praises.

But Aoba’s back had started hurting.

Halfway through his first and only champagne, Aoba had elbowed Noiz and whispered behind the palm of his hand if there was a place to sit down.

“No, not yet at least. There are some benches outside if you want.”

“It’s too cold for me personally.”

The corner of Noiz’s lip had quirked up. “It’s halfway through April.” Aoba scoffed and focused on the flute of drink in his other hand.

“It’s still _cold_ , and I don’t want to have to try and understand the coat check’s accent again.”

“You just need to get used to Dresden weather,” Noiz brushed off Aoba’s worries and took hold of him by the elbow, leading him down a hallway just as ornate as the lounge and towards a side corridor.

Once inside the bathroom, Noiz let Aoba hop up and plant his rear on the sink, groaning slightly in relief. “Man… one really become conscious of how slouchy they look in real life when they go to events like these, huh.” His voice had a twinge of envy as he eyed the towels, folded in a clamshell pattern.

Noiz had opened his mouth to retort some snide remark about appearances but something clatters on the other side of the bathroom and after that—it all becomes fuzzy.

Aoba remembers a man and a woman, though no faces stick. A waving hand and Noiz pulling him by his own. A man in a suit as pressed and expensive as Noiz’s holding a rolled up fifty Euro bill, passing it to Aoba, and there’s a buzz and a painful smell and his upper lip is chalky and Noiz beside him, his eyes rimmed green around widening black, hands warm and firm as he holds Aoba by the jaw and looks him over.

Then he shoves two fingers into Aoba’s mouth, rubbing against his gums and under his tongue.

And Aoba bites down.

Again he bites down, on his lip this time, in the present where Noiz’s belt buckle jingles as he shuffles and bends his knees in order to fuck Aoba faster, throttling moans and pants out of Aoba as if he was digging for a secret. One hand creeps around from Aoba’s hip across his ass and to the rim stretching and pulling around Noiz’s cock. One finger traces the muscle and when it twitches Noiz throws his head back and exhales through clenched teeth.

“Aoba,” he says, or maybe he thinks it, because Aoba doesn’t respond, reveling in the cool press of the porcelain against his cheek as he finally relents and sinks down, ass at a higher incline. “ _Aoba_.” This time Noiz is sure he’s said it because he can feel spit on his lips as his mouth catches on the consonant, biting hard as he pulls Aoba back by one wrist and the opposite shoulder.

Aoba feels like he’s drowning in Noiz, filled to capacity by Noiz’s cock and the pleasure sparking electric and hot in his stomach, shooting up to his fingers like a fuse burning on dynamite. The bones in his hands are more pronounced, four lovely lines of tension on each in the form of curled digits by his face and against the edge of Noiz’s palm. Aoba has to consciously think about breathing.

“Noiz, ah, you--- ah, ah, _ah_ —“ The words fumble from Aoba’s mouth, ineffective and transformed into breathy cries for the man behind him. The hand held captive scrambles with twitching fingers for a grip on Noiz, his jacket, his belt loops, anything to give himself some balance in his mind and physically (he’s almost certain that Noiz will knock him off his feet quite literally); in a final plea he tosses his head back, hair catching in his teary eyelashes as he blinks up at Noiz and asks, “Bitte Noiz, weiter, härter.”

Noiz doesn’t even pause as he pulls Aoba flush against him, panting, “Etwa so?” cupping Aoba’s chin and tilting back until his back bows in a perfect arch, ponytail draping down his back and Noiz is completely inside, Aoba twitching around him and practically choking on his own breath. Noiz, feeling the damp trail from Aoba’s chin to his mouth, traces with two fingers until the plush inside of Aoba’s lower lip welcomes him in and he shoves them in, coming together after tracing Aoba’s tongue and thrusting inside until the edge of Aoba’s teeth scrape Noiz’s palm and knuckles.

Aoba seizes up all around Noiz, in his throat and ass, almost air tight as Noiz fucks his mouth and his ass until Aoba, clawing at Noiz’s wrist, jerks away and coughs, heaves, saliva thick and dripping down Noiz’s hand and onto Aoba’s shirt. It’s enough to lubricate Noiz’s hand for now and he reaches down to jerk Aoba off as the other recovers, hair loosened enough to create a thin veil around his face that trembles with every shudder and thrust.

Beyond coherency, Aoba shakes his head frantically and rolls his hips in a silent request, tearing a moan from Noiz’s throat. Everything in him hurts from overstimulation, from standing and being fucked so brutally for goodness knows how long at this point, and if Noiz would just _touch him_ —

Then there is pressure against his lower stomach, pressing flat and wide right above the base of his cock, and even Aoba is surprised by how loud he yells as the first spurt of cum shoots out and onto the toilet, dripping down from the carved handle and onto the floor.

Noiz’s nose is bleeding now, pressed into the junction of Aoba’s neck and running down the track of his collarbone to pool in the dip at the end, and he thinks it could sizzle had it been any cooler. Aoba has been thoroughly wrung out to dry. The muscles of his entrance throb, sore as they drag along Noiz’s cock and he _wails_ as Noiz grabs him around the dick again and starts stroking, the flat pressure of his palm still present on Aoba’s stomach.

“Noiz, Noiz,” Aoba’s voice cracks and he’s balancing on two hands and a knee on the toilet as Noiz keeps thrusting, piercings dragging torturously down and forward against Aoba’s prostate and he could cry, almost does as Noiz doesn’t falter, rampant in his desire to cum.

“You,” Noiz breathes. Blood drips onto Aoba’s hair, staining it purple or brown and he licks his upper lip clean. “Baby, come—come here,” Noiz coaxes with a voice going hoarse and hands not knowing their destination until his forehead touches the back of Aoba’s neck. “I’m gonna fuck you up—“

“Ah—“

“—even, even more—“ Noiz wheezes and squeezes Aoba’s dick at the head and Aoba, in a spectacular display of broken restraint, orgasms dry and spasms against Noiz with no sound and a mix of tears, snot, and spit running down his chin. The pressure of the clamp of Aoba’s ass around Noiz’s dick as he fucks Aoba breathless draws him to his peak, lips trembling around curses and Aoba’s name. He feels like he’s on fire, flames licking up his back and behind his eyes as he loses focus for a good fifteen seconds.

Noiz comes back to the real world with a jolt as Aoba tightens around him. A gasp lodges in Noiz’s throat and he looks down, veins buzzing and pupils enveloping his irises and blood drips down from his nose onto Aoba’s cheek, one drop running down his exhausted smirk.

“You have to match me, two for two,” Aoba’s words sound heavy and thick like honey and his hands feel like temptation as they pull Noiz’s own to play at Aoba’s chest, nipples evident under the thin fabric of his button down.

Noiz and Aoba, they dive into each other once more under the buzzing white of the fluorescent fixtures.

*

Aoba’s back still hurts.

As he sits up, he lifts an arm to check the time on his Coil only to bang it against a wall or something and now he’s well aware that everything aches. Already he feels tired and wants to go home, so he stumbles out to wash his face more awake.

The sink must rouse Noiz from his slumber on the floor because the next time Aoba looks in the mirror he almost screams at the figure behind him. Swallowing that down, Aoba turns on his heels to face Noiz, hands shaking and wet as the water continues to run.

“You--!”

“Feel like I got hit with something hard and heavy.” Noiz grimaces and rubs at the back of his head, then at the dried blood on his nose. “Like a truck. What time is it?”

“It’s—“ a swift check after patting his hands dry, “A little past midnight. Um, how late do these things usually go on--?” Aoba tucks his hairband between his teeth and starts pulling his hair back into its previous style as Noiz adjusts his tie.

“Two, sometimes three in the morning,” Noiz shrugs and scratches at the back of his neck. Something in his shoulder pops as he rolls them and even Aoba winces. “We could catch the train back to the hotel.”

“Or… a cab…” Aoba mutters behind a towel as he dries off. “Don’t want the greater Dresden population seeing, y’know, me, like this.”

“I guess the mark on your neck is kinda obvious.” At Aoba’s stifled scoff Noiz points to his own neck, gesturing to the area on Aoba’s where a very obvious purple blotch indeed lay, the points of Noiz’s canines accented in deep purple and red.

Aoba can’t even answer with words, just jerking his collar up and around his mouth as his face practically steams red. “M-more than that, what about you?! It looks like you’ve just been dragged in from a fight.”

“Looks like you’ll have to take care of the injured me again, huh?” Noiz’s smirk is tired but still there and Aoba just holds back from throwing a waterlogged hand towel at his face.

After shuffling and wiping themselves down into some semblance of their prior formal selves, both make their way out of the building and toward the curb to hail a cab, Aoba’s neck and the lower half of his blushing face hidden by Noiz’s scarf. Once in the warm dark confines of the back seat, Noiz’s hand finds Aoba’s and interlocks their fingers together. Aoba ducks his chin even further into his scarf at Noiz’s touch, his finger and thumb still damp from the coat check ticket, picked up from the floor near a smattering of Aoba’s cum.

**Author's Note:**

> _Bitte, weiter, härter -- Please more, harder._   
>  _(Meinst Du) Etwa so? -- (You mean) Like this?_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I do not use nor endorse or condone the usage of hard drugs in any shape or form.  
> Other than that, I don't have a lot to say about this other than I thought "I want to write this" and... sat down and wrote it... I'm getting better at this productivity thing.  
> As per usual, self beta'd, all mistakes are mine. I really hope you enjoyed this, it was fun writing it :)


End file.
